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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Obligatory back story chapter. Anyways, I figured since I'm going back to school in a few days I might as well post the entire story since I'll be focused on that. Plus... I've got another story rattling around in my head that I REALLY wanna post.
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Ororo tucked her calves beneath her, her long legs clad in jean shorts. Her white chambray shirt was cool, completing the look of relaxed, something she felt very little of but did her best to show otherwise. Whatever went through his mind when he offered, the reality was dim to the fantasy. Ah, well, such as life. Ororo watched as he took out the food.

A massive saran wrapped sandwich came first, then some of his favorite chips-- she’d never tried them before-- a Greek salad, an icy beer and water came from the picnic basket she gave him. Ororo was impressed, taking the fork from him and licking her lips. That salad looked amazing. Did he make it himself? She didn’t even realize they had feta cheese. Ororo began to peel back the saran wrap, her mouth watering. Ororo was reconsidering the awkward position with this tasty morsel in front of her. “Thank you, Logan.”

He shrugged. “I figured you wouldn’t want the other half of my sandwich. Not that I’d share.” Logan tore the wrapping, his mouth watering for the black forest ham sandwich. His powerful jaws tore into the meat, the mustard dripping down the sides of his mouth. “We’re out of ham, by the way.”

Ororo smiled and shook her head. So that was how the sandwich was so massive. She tipped her head, regarding him. Giggles erupted soon after. He looked at her mid chew. “I’m sorry. It’s not you, well, it is. You remind me of Dagwood. You know, from the Blondie comics?” Logan’s brow and Logan missed the connection. “Your sandwich? Surely, you must have noticed.”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “Huh,” he grunted, then attacked the sandwich for her benefit. He liked her laughter, it was a pleasant sound, much like her voice. It was husky, seductive, and friendly. It was also slightly accented. That was something he’d noticed a long time ago, the second he stepped inside he knew it was African, but never questioned. Maybe now would be a good time. He swallowed and opened his mouth, but she beat him to speaking.

“I’m sorry if I was rude.” She looked down, biting her inner cheek. “I know I come off as cold, but I never want to be seen as rude. And I apologize.”

Girls had some weird way of messing with his heart. Jubilee, Kitty, and Rouge made him a feel fatherly, Jean made him warm, but Ororo? He was quickly picking up on her ability to make him feel a range of emotions he disliked. Mushy, sentimental, warm, and guilty. And right now, he was feeling super guilty. “I was being an ass, kid. If anything, I should apologize and thank you.” Logan licked his suddenly dry lips. “Did I hurt ya too bad?”

Ororo self consciously looked at her covered shoulders. “No, I’m used to being covered in bruises. Hank said I was fine; you didn’t so any damage.” She uncovered her mouth, swallowed, and continued. “Thank me? What for?”

Logan turned his body to face her. “I don’t know if ya’ve noticed, but most people can’t face me like you did. It was confusing as hell, but I appreciate it. I hate when people fear me, minus the crumb snatchers, but that shit is hilarious.” He nodded, “You look me in eye and tell me what’s up. Makes sense you’re second in command. Should be first, considering how I don’t respect One-Eye.”

“He respects you.” Ororo grinned. “You respect me?” she asked not bothering to hide the glee in her voice. He nodded. She lunged for his beefy neck, locking him in a hug.

Logan rolled his eyes; all girls were the same. Sentimental and too damn huggy. He did like her smell all close to him like that. It was calming. “Alright, alright. Let go.” Once she did, she playfully pushed his head. “Ow! What was that for?”

“Ruining the moment. I may be twenty six, but I still enjoy hugs.” Was she really that young? He looked at her trying to decide if it was true. Huh. He always knew she was a looker, but she was much prettier with a smile on her face. A smile was the first thing Logan noticed on Jean. That and the gorgeous red hair. White was nice. Definitely exotic. “Yes, I’m really twenty six. Does that surprise you?”

Logan couldn’t blush, he was too cocky to. But if he was a total pussy he would, and would be right now. “I guess. I don’t really think about you,” he answered honestly. She wasn’t hurt by his statement. He made his crush on Jean no secret and Ororo was a big girl, able to handle a guy not liking her. She picked at her salad, and forked the leafy greens into her mouth. “I don’t really know all that much about you, anyways. You’re sorta like this mystery? I don’t know,” he concluded.

Ah, yes. She was always seen as a mystery. She did nothing to perpetuate it, if anyone ever asked her, she would answer. It’s just that nobody did, and Ororo wasn’t the type to volunteer that kind of personal information. It was better to be asked and know there was interest than force a person to listen to something they didn’t care about. And she told him as much. But at the end, she bit into her salad, sipped her water, swallowed, and asked, “What would you like to know?”

Tapping his bottom lip and considering the possibilities, she started off simply enough. “Those yer real eyes?”

Ororo nodded. “And this is my real hair. It’s part of my mutation, not hereditary. My mother-- N’Dare-- had black hair. Before you can ask, my father’s name was David.”

Logan tipped his head. “Was?” A dark cloud formed, too small and too far away to be a problem, yet Logan saw it. “You don’t gotta explain--”

“They died when I was five. I was born in America, but my father was sent to Cairo for a photography job; he took pictures for magazines and the like. One night, I had a nightmare and it caused a plane to crash into our room. We were trapped under rubble and... I watched my mother die. It... It’s the reason I am afraid of enclosed spaces.” She shrugged, the familiar sickness coming back with the memory. “As you know, my powers are linked to my emotions. It is why I must stay aloof nearly all the time.”

“Yeah.” He genuinely hoped she wouldn’t ruminate on those memories long. They were pretty screwed up, even for him. “So, uh,” he cleared his throat, his mind scrambling, “why d’ya say goddess? You grew up in Africa, shouldn’t ya be Muslim?”

Ororo smiled. “It’s embarrassing, but in Africa, this tribe worshipped me as a goddess because I could change the weather. And my mother’s family is a clan of sorceresses. I suppose the pagan beliefs just... stuck. And I see nothing wrong with them, if you are trying to convert me.”

Holding up his mustard stained hands, he offered defeat. “I don’t even believe in a god. Too much bad in the world for me to think some almighty loving power is up there, not doing anything about it.” A slow smile formed. “But you, however?-- you I could worship.”

“Please, don’t. It really does embarrass me. My childhood hubris is long gone. Reality has long set in.” She finished off her salad. The banana peppers were so crisp, she couldn’t help but wish there had been more of them. Perhaps next time-- if there ever was a next time-- the message would be relayed.

“You still say goddess.”

Ororo pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head, her white mane moving. “This is why I don’t tell people that particular story. Least of all you! You are as mature as a thirteen year old boy.”

Logan sat up straight and flexed. “Sure about that, darlin’?”

Brown hands were thrown up. “Point proven!” He roared with laughter, then offered his chips to her. He never shared his chips with her. Ororo noticed, but never mentioned, the sentiment. Taking a fat one, she nibbled. Spicy! Jalapeno chips. Ororo took another sip of her water. She took another chip and nibbled, enjoying the taste and bite, but not wanting to have it all at once.

Hazel eyes roved over brown skin. “Chuck made me come to you. I’m kinda glad I did.”

“I assumed,” she admitted. “Thank you for what I hope was a compliment.”

It was.





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